


Great Glad Tidings

by Wonko



Category: Holby City
Genre: Berena Advent 2018, Drabble Collection, F/F, mature rating is for chapter 7, ooh la la, which contains sexual situations and light bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-05 04:50:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16803970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/pseuds/Wonko
Summary: Drabble collection for the Berena Advent 2018.





	1. Gift Wrapping

Serena expects her first Christmas gift from Bernie to come wrapped in creased and half torn paper, held together by sticky tape and hope. She remembers the first gift Bernie ever gave her with a fond smile - that brown paper package tied up with string. Had she known then how quickly the giver would become one of her favourite things? **  
**

Bernie does not disappoint. She hands over a crumpled mess of a thing with a crooked smile that makes Serena’s heart clench. “I’m better at unwrapping,” Bernie whispers, her eyes travelling down Serena’s body. “I’ll show you later.”

She does.


	2. Family

“Sorry, Jason,” Bernie murmurs ruefully, fringe falling in front of her face. “I forgot batteries.”

Jason carefully pulls the 13th Doctor’s sonic screwdriver from its packaging. “That’s all right,” he says. “Auntie Serena’s got loads of batteries - she buys them in bulk.”

Bernie’s eyes swivel round to see Serena blushing and she honks out a surprised laugh. “Does she now?”

Serena swats her shoulder. “Well, I don’t really need them these days, Jason,” she says, then raises an eyebrow that’s just for Bernie.

Elinor pulls her first gift from under the tree - a plain white envelope. “Please be therapy sessions...”


	3. Carol Singing

Bernie signs them up for the hospital choir. She thinks it’ll be something fun for them to do together, a shared interest outside surgery and shiraz, and it’s for charity. Win-win. There’s just one problem. **  
**

Serena is tone deaf.

Bernie can barely believe it. That voice - that amazing, throaty, mellifluous voice - is a cacophonous warble that disrupts the entire contralto section during _Oh Holy Night._

“Never mind darling,” Bernie says as they leave their first and last practice. “How about we go home and make our own kind of music? I might even fall on my knees if you’re lucky…”


	4. Mrs Claus

“So I told him, I’d be happy to throw on a Santa suit and a stick on beard for the kids, but I’m absolutely not wearing a dress and heels and calling myself Mrs Claus for the day.”

Serena smiles indulgently at her partner, whose voice has been getting more and more high pitched. “Because…?”

Bernie takes a long sip of her wine. “Philosophical objection,” she mutters. “She’s defined solely by her relationship to a man. Where’s her agency, hmm? Where are the stories where Mrs Claus is the hero? And why did she have to change her name, anyway?”


	5. Puppy

Bernie bustles inside noisily, letting in a gust of snow before she can wrestle the door closed. “Darling?” she calls. “Serena, are you home?” **  
**

Serena appears at the top of the stairs, frowning as she takes in the sight of her bedraggled partner who seems to be wrestling with something under her coat. “What the-” she begins, eyes widening when a shaggy little head thrusts itself past the collar of Bernie’s coat. “Oh no,” she insists. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s freezing out there. I couldn’t just leave him!”

Serena sighs. Two sets of brown puppy eyes? She doesn’t stand a chance.


	6. Mistletoe

She’s expecting the house to be dark and silent when she lets herself in, but there’s a low glow of lamplight coming from the living room. She opens the door quietly to find Bernie dozing on the couch, her mouth hanging slightly open. Her eyes blink open under Serena’s scrutiny and she smiles.

“Long night?”

“Yeah. Three year old boy developed a taste for mistletoe berries.”

“Ouch.” Bernie shifts to make room for Serena to collapse beside her. “Makes me glad I didn’t get any for the house.”

Serena grins, leans forward. “Like I need an excuse to kiss you…”


	7. Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mature themes (by which I mean sexual situations and light bondage.)

Bernie whimpers slightly as she flexes against the restraints holding her to the bed. It’s purely a reflex action - Serena knows what she’s doing. Not that they do this often. Normally they’re all about gentle touches, soft sighs, trembling in each other’s arms in the silent dark. **  
**

But tonight is New Year’s Eve, and Serena had wanted to do something special. Bernie had agreed readily, not realising that Serena meant to tease her, to keep her on the edge until the clock strikes twelve.

At last, the moment comes. Outside, cheers. In her veins, blood fizzing. Behind her eyes, fireworks.


	8. Snowball Fight

The snow has been falling for days and the whole of the south west has ground to a halt. Trains are cancelled, roads are empty. More to the point, planes are grounded. So Bernie is staying for Christmas, her bosses in Nairobi slightly baffled by the concept of snow wrecking travel plans, but accepting.

They play. Serena feels like a child again - throwing snowballs, sculpting snowmen, flopping to the ground to make snow angels. And she laughs, long and loud and clear, and somehow they’re all right. Somehow, despite everything, they’re fresh and new again. Pure as the driven snow.


	9. Christmas with Adrienne

When Bernie offers to cook Christmas dinner, Serena places a surreptitious order with M&S, just in case. Not that she doesn’t have faith in Bernie, she equivocates. She’s a very capable woman. It’s just best to be prepared.

Bernie covers her eyes when she leads her to the table. When she finally lets her see, Serena gasps. It’s her mother’s turkey. Her mother’s stuffing. Her mother’s sprouts fried with lardons.

“I found some recipe cards in the loft when I moved in,” Bernie says hesitantly. “Is…is this okay?”

Serena blinks back tears. “Oh, darling,” she whispers. “It’s perfect.”


	10. Hospital Kisses

Serena has rules. No shoes in the living room. No heating on after 8pm. No washing up left on the side overnight. And the biggest rule of them all - no office romances. They’re not worth it. The gossip, the tittering behind hands, the inevitable fallout when it all goes tits up.

The moment Bernie kisses her on the floor of a deserted operating theatre, that previously steadfast rule dissolves. Before she knows it, they’re kissing everywhere. The office. The locker room. The roof.

She doesn’t let her wear shoes in the living room though. Some lines just can’t be crossed.


	11. Tradition

Serena puts up her Christmas tree in the first weekend of December. She wraps gifts weeks in advance with numerous bows and ribbons. On the day itself, she dresses up and listens to choral music while preparing a sumptuous feast.

Bernie puts up her tree on Christmas Eve, if she remembers. Her gift wrapping is legendarily bad. On Christmas Day she likes to wear pyjamas and generally buys in premade food that just needs heated up.

Their first Christmas clashes horribly. “Never mind, darling,” Bernie murmurs when it’s over. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to make new traditions.”


	12. Sparkles

The queue at the kiosk is long, snaking back onto the path. “I’ll wait. You take her,” Serena says, gesturing towards Guinevere. “She’s desperate for a little playground action.” She watches them walk away, Guin toddling along, babbling. Her heart feels somehow light and full at the same time.

It’s cold and crisp, with frost still colouring the grass and leaves. When Serena finally picks up the hot chocolates and babychino she’d been waiting for, she finds Bernie pushing their great-niece on the swing. The sun peeps out from behind a cloud, and the winter landscape sparkles like a jewel.


	13. Christmas Jumpers

“Could you hold still please?” Serena’s voice is prim and admonishing but her eyes are smiling.

Bernie wriggles one last time for good measure, but eventually allows Serena to finish up. Shoulder span, arm length, waist, bust - she grins when Serena takes extra time measuring that. “Are you going to tell me what this is for now?”

“Nope.”

Serena keeps it a mystery until Christmas Eve when she hands over a squashy parcel with a shy smile. It’s a jumper, hand-knitted, in trauma-scrub blue with a pattern of snowflakes.

Bernie wears it every Christmas for the rest of her life.


End file.
